Page 4 of Point of No Return

Eva rubs her temples slowly as if annoyed I haven’t put the pieces together. “Tyson might as well be dead, but his sons are hardly dying. That’s where you come in.” The words slowly sink their teeth in, and my entire childhood- the training, the parties, the practice- suddenly all makes sense. A memory from long ago wanders back to me, dark and fuzzy:

“You are Prevyain, Lottie. Do you know what that means?” my mother’s fingers braided my hair back in a plait, strands drawn tight. I shook my head. “You will learn our traditions, our customs, our way of life. While they can never take it from you, there will be many who try.” Her eyes met mine in the broken mirror hanging above the tub in the bathroom. “They fear the things we can do. If they find out about the things you’ll learn… they will try to hurt you.”

“I understand, Moma.”

The memory shatters, and I’m left staring at the fire of our house. Not the home, the shack, I’d grown up with in Prevya, but our mansion of finery and decadence.

“Do you understand what you’re asking of me?” my voice is hard despite the riot in my gut.

My mother nods. Gone are the smiles, the facade. All that’s left is the cold steel beneath it all. I’ve been at the brunt of it many times, and I can feel I’m close to being on the receiving end of it again.

“This isn’t something I’d tell you lightly, Lottie.”

She’s asking me to kill him. Not just hunt down, not just manipulate.Kill. I swallow the lump in my throat, toying with the blade that’s still hidden beneath my sleeve. I focus on the feeling of the cold silver against my skin- on anything except the heavy feeling settling in my stomach.

“Marry him. Tame his suspicions because he will have them. Make him fall in love with you if you have to. But then you have to kill-”

“Why are you asking this of me?”

“Because Charlotte!” she yells, eyes wild, hands fists at her side. “You know why. We’ve made our own way in this world- and I’ll be damned if I let the men claim it as their own.”

In all my years, my mother has never raised her voice. She’s hit me, beaten me into submission, but I’ve never once heard her yell. It was always hushed reprimands or hidden discipline. Somehow, the yelling is scarier.

She sighs, smoothing her fists flat before folding her hands in front of her. “We will talk more in the morning. For now, remember everything I’ve told you.” I hardly register that she’s moved until I feel her hand against my cheek, brushing a fallen strand of hair from my eyes. “This isn’t our world anymore, Lottie. We don’t get to play by the rules like everyone else.”

I nod as I consider her words. The same ones I’ve heard over and over many times before. Normally, I understand the truth they hold. I respect it. Honor it. But knowing that all those hours spent training in the hot Prevyain sun were actually meant for something… Meant forthis…

I don’t know how to feel. I step out of her touch, turning towards the door with one final look back. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Chapter Three

Skar

It’s been years since my father has been able to surprise me. He’s a fairly simple man fueled only by greed and whatever keeps his dick wet. It isn’t a surprise to find out I’m to be wed in just a few short months. It isn’t a surprise to find out that the union’s been months in the making, and it certainly isn’t a surprise that Tyson waited until the last second to tell me.

The last second being the moment the woman’s bags arrive on our doorstep. She’s only a few yards behind them, but even as she hikes across my family’s gardens in a killer pair of red heels, I can tell a few things:

One: She looks just as displeased with the union, if not more so, than I am. Two: My father’s goal here isn’t to surprise me. It’s to piss me off.

“She’s a looker, isn’t she?” Aleks says from behind me. When I look over at him, he’s already smiling, arms crossed over his chest and hackles practically raised as he watches her.

I’ve only just arrived back from my trip to Venine. I’m tired. I’m starving. I definitely wasn’t expecting a fiancée waiting on my doorstep for me when I got back home. Something about it rubs me wrong. Not just because my nineteen year old brother has hit on her within the first minute of seeing her.

“Why don’t you keep it in your pants, Aleks?”

Josie, knowing from what I’ve gathered in the few minutes I’ve been back, has been secretly tasked with beingherlady’s maid. Considering Josie’s been the second head of security for longer than Aleks has been alive, that alone is surprising. She hadn’t been assigned something as trivial as personal detail in years.

When Josie appears in the doorway, a frown threatening to take permanent residence across her face, I know she’s not happy about it either. But then my fiancée appears behind her, and I can see the cards my father has played as clear as day:

Assigning Josie was a calculated move. She’s less than ¼ Prevyain, but she- like my betrothed- still has the dark inking of tattoos across her palm and wrist. A dead giveaway as to where they’re from. And that surprises me more than anything else. Something in my gut twists painfully.

Her face is blank, lips painted a bright red that has Aleks grinning even wider when her eyes land on him. “You must be Aleksander.”

My fists clench at my sides as he kicks off the door-frame and extends a hand toward her. “You must be Charlotte. I’ve been waiting for the day I finally meet you.”

Charlotte Orlova- daughter of Charles and Eva Orlova. A family well-known in Westos for being some of the last Prevyains. A symbol of everything my family once stood against.And now?Now she’s standing on my front porch step. It still hasn’t hit me thatshe’s moving in.

Charlotte eyes my brother’s hand for a moment before taking it, and he kisses the ink across her knuckles. “Pleasure.”

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